You cannot argue with Brewer as Beethoven's Leonore (taken from the complete recording on Chandos, by the way); it is a perfect performance, filled with nuance, with a veritable flood of rock-solid tone at every register and fine diction (as it is throughout this recital). Nor can you fault the two Alceste arias, which have the stature and grandeur the character deserves.

An aria from Rodelinda is likewise successful, but here you begin to realize that the sound is simply too plush for the role and the accompaniments; Brewer is in danger of overpowering the orchestra. I began to feel amazed each time she succeeded at a particularly lightweight phrase when I should have been taking it all for granted. Similarly, though the intent is there, the Countess in Figaro, like Elisabeth in Tannhäuser, should not sound quite as mature as Brewer does. Oddly, her Elsa fares better, though the character is also young; Brewer's piano singing is touching and lovely and the fact that she always seems so emotionally available is a great plus throughout.

Brewer almost overwhelms us with her desperation in Magda's aria from Menotti's The Consul--as we feel more and more ignored by large corporations and continue to "press star for more options", invariably getting nowhere, Magda's plight takes on more and more meaning. Marietta's Lied, here sung (correctly) as a duet (with tenor Timothy Robinson), is simply ravishing. Ellen Orford's aria needs more fragility, and Brewer is awkward in the duet from The Land of Smiles; but her "Climb ev'ry mountain" almost made me cry.

I realize that my complaints are odd--too much natural voice? How absurd!; but an hour and 10 minutes of Brewer is like an entire room wallpapered and carpeted in red velvet--maybe not that bad a thing, but somewhat awe-inspiring when a lighter touch is required. Maybe Chandos will give us a(nother) English-language Ring?

David Parry leads the London Philharmonic with a sensitive ear toward each character and Brewer's unique, geyser-like sound. Highly recommended despite peculiar reservations.

--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com